Friday, April 22, 2016

earth day ..

i awoke this morn with the poem..
please come home on my lips..
thought i would print it out for
the 9:30 yoga class..
earth day and all..

i opened the blog &
searched my stash of poems..
and there..
earth day..2015..
please come home..
cheque it out!

the shoreline is pinking her way with the ice plant
that holds the earth snug together at the seaboard -
baby harbor seals are snestling up to their rotund mama-sans..
the wee birds are peeking and pecking their way
to the seed pods that are bursting..
crows are holding court as usual..
pelicans are off and away..
have not seen them for weeks..
surfer dudes and chick-a-dees are striding
on the waves with the prowess and grace of water goddesses..
white sails prick the dark sea and take one's breath out from under..
squirrels stand on hind legs .. mountain pose..
sniffing for food..listening to the om of our planet..
pigeons rule the roost roof tops..
dove song sings -

please come home. please come home.
thank you, earth,  for welcoming us. 

the wesak moon hung full in last night's sky..
pink, planter, egg, growing, seed, awakening -
a few names of april/ taurus moon
earth day moon..

now this very daybreak..
the pink of sunup..
running like egg yolks
thru the scattered stratum of dawn

may our footprints leave no ache
on terra firma..

please come home. please come home.
find a the place where your feet know where to walk
and follow your own trail home.

Friday, April 8, 2016


it is pixie tangerine season in ojai, california!
the perfume of the blossoms and fruit is over-the-top intoxicating..

it was a flower once, it was one of a billion flowers
whose perfume broke through closed car windows,
forced a blessing on their drivers.
then what stayed behind grew swollen, as we do;
grew juice instead of tears, and small hard sour seeds,
each one bitter, as we are, and filled with possibility.
now a hole opens up in its skin, where it was torn from the
branch; ripeness can’t stop itself, breathes out;
we can’t stop it either. We breathe in.      
                                  ~ ruth l. schwartz

the land of pixie tangerines ..
the land of j. krishnamurti..
my first teacher of yoga ~
the art of living..
you are the world ~ the world is you 
                              - j. k.

i began sitting at his feet ..
( ooh! he would not like me saying that )
when i was 18..
i would travel to ojai for the entire 2 weeks..
the end of may.. for years..until he passed..
i was 36 - krishna-ji was 90..

the teachings always came in the vicinity
of my birthdate .. i celebrated every birthday with him..
if i was in india - i would see him there..
he did not know me..

i remember once in mumbai we were staying in the same hotel..
the night before i chequed out, i could not sleep..
at 3 AM, an unlit candle in a stand careened to the floor -

3 AM is always a powerful juncture for me ..
the world is still..
yet takes its first breath of the day right then and there..
- my favorite time -
i was startled and delighted that some high note had been struck..

early meditation on the hotel bed..
great posture practice on the marble floor..
dawn dappled the capital city of the state of maharashtra -
i was ready for toast and jam..
the hotel restaurant - open and inviting..
strong spicy masala tea, idli and dosas..

returning to my room to pack and cheque out..
i see krishnaji..holy moly!
he is being herded to the waiting limo by his attentive entourage..
i see him get in one side of the car
and climb out the other..
before you know it, we are sitting on a bench together ..
just sitting..
just sitting..
just sitting..
his people summon him ..
we look at one another for a bright wee while..
my life is changed forever..

we burnt 
tangerine sunsets
by festering 
our sandy hearts
unfathomed by the horizon,
unmeasured by the sky.
                    ~ r.e. chandler

pixie tangerines..
they are always seedless

in patanjali's yoga sutras..
nirbija samadhi - samadhi without a seed..
the spontaneous meditative mind..
the gold of raja yoga..
unified field of awareness ..
not two..
just like that!

..the word yoga is generally understood as 
bringing together, tying together.
i have been told by scholars that the word yoga
does not mean that at all; nor all the exercises 
and all the racket that goes with it.
what it means is unitive perception,
perceiving the whole thing totally,
as a unit, the capacity, or awareness, 
or seeing the whole existence as one -
unitive perception, that's what it means,
what the word yoga means.

i am concerning myself with only one thing:
to set man free. i desire to free him from
all cages, from all fears, and not to found
religions, new sects, nor to establish
new theories and new philosophies.
                              ~ j. k.